


The Offer

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post "Chosen", Post Season 7, Post Sunnydale, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after Sunnydale's destruction, the Council offers Buffy an entirely new life; there are two possibilities between which she is to choose. Months later, she decides to inform her former Watcher, who has moved back to England, about the change. It resolves into a probably anticipated, but happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> Written in one go. I own all my mistakes. :)

Three years after the destruction of the Hellmouth - to the day -, Buffy, who had moved to Los Angeles with Dawn, had a visitor. Willow and Xander both living nearby, Buffy opened the door cheerfully, without suspecting to find anyone else behind it. To her surprise, she found the last person she would have expected to stop by looking at her from insecure puppy eyes.  
"... Wesley? I mean ... Mr Wyndam-Pryce?"  
He blushed. "You may just as well call me Wesley now, Buffy, since I'm not your Watcher anymore."  
She wiped away a stray strand of hair with the back of her hand - she had been baking, and had flour all over her - and managed a hospitable smile. "Well, come in, Wesley, I'm sorry, I have flour all over me, so I won't shake your hand. I'm baking, you see?" With that, she floated back to the kitchen and called out. "I'm back here! Come in, have a seat!"  
Wesley, surprised, did as he was told. She really _had_ changed; Rupert had told him so. The cheeky whirlwind had become an energetic young woman. After sitting down, exchanging some small talk - Cordelia and him had gotten engaged, Buffy had opened a Martial Arts school, Dawn had been admitted to Harvard, Quentin Travers had passed away - and settling for a cup of fresh coffee, he cleared his throat and declared the reason for his visit.

***

"Buffy." She sensed how serious he was and just nodded, questioningly, and took to forming small loaves of bread.  
"I've come here to deliver a message from the Council... an offer, to be precise."  
"What could the Council possibly be offering me? What do they care about ex-Slayers?" She was spreading linseed onto her work.  
"Well, you see... The Hellmouth has been gone for three years now, we have outwaited our safety period and it hasn't reopened anywhere. I mean, I'm sure that the Evil can't be extinct, but it seems as though hell doesn't have too much of a business on Earth anymore, and... There are plenty of Potentials, and the Council has officially decided to allow you to, er, retire."  
"Tell me something I don't know, Wesley."  
"It's more complicated than that. A Slayer has never survived her mission, but yet, now, Faith and you are both alive."  
"Indeed."  
"There is an ancient rule for such an occasion, you know. We have never come to make use of it, since ... well, obviously ... none of the Slayers ever survived. But the rule demands that the Slayer choose between two offers in case she survives."  
"Getting more interesting now." Buffy shoved half of her creations into the pre-heated oven, then forming new loaves, spreading flour around her.  
"The Council is obliged to grant you an entirely new life. It requires you to decide: Either you give back all your Slayer powers and all memories connected to your missions ... or you keep your memories and some of your powers, but have to give back your strength and youth that was given to you by the Council."  
"Wait, what? So I either end up not remembering who I am and my friends forgetting me, or as a great-great-grandma?" Buffy smacked the loaf she currently dealt with onto the work surface a little too fiercely.  
Wesley chuckled shyly. "No. You know how Dawn was created? The process would be a similar one. Your, erm, Slayerness would be erased from your memory and the memory of everyone you know, and a fake past would be created for you. You'd still be in everyone's memories, but as a normal girl. You'd remember a different life that you never lived, and so will your friends. And also, no, you wouldn't be that old. More like, let me see, I believe you would end up being thirty-eight."  
"Are you kidding me?"  
"What? No, Buffy, those are the rules. It's a gift, actually. Don't tell me you haven't been living your life in constant stress and with overflowing energy. Don't tell me you haven't been craving demons and evil twists of fate ever since the destruction of Sunnydale."  
Buffy raised her eyebrow and nodded in agreement.  
"Recreating your memory would serve as a huge relief. As would aging. You wouldn't have to deal with the constant edgyness anymore. Your memories and your sense for evil, as well as, apart from your overflowing Slayer strength, your martial arts powers would stay."

Buffy had finished the third load of loaves and exchanged the one in the oven with a second one, dusting her hands into her apron afterwards. She sighed.  
"You know, Wesley, I have dreamt of leading a normal life _so_ often." He nodded. "Obviously. Every Slayer does that, you know. Watchers, too."  
She freed herself from the very floury apron. "Are Watchers confronted with the same choice?"  
"Sadly, no. I-I mean... no. Watchers have never been given, er, superpowers, so there is nothing to give back to the Council. And we can't give back our memories, we carry to much responsibility."  
"Hm." She furrowed her brows. "And I really have to choose." He nodded, finishing his coffee and almost disappearing behind the huge mug Buffy had served him.  
"What did Faith choose?"  
"Well... she wanted her life to be rewritten and her memories to be erased. She has become a different person and doesn't have any recollection of the, er, hardships she has been through." Buffy smiled. "Good for her."

After a moment of silence, Buffy said, "I don't want to lose my memories. I want to _know_ what happened. I guess I'll have to cope with, uh, express aging then, huh." Buffy took out the second load of bread and put in the third one. Responding to Wesleys confused look, she said, "Baking for some of the neighbours, too."  
Cleaning his glasses, Wesley said, "An understandable choice. Not everyone is fine with giving up the person they have once been. Also, I understand that you, too, feel some responsibility concerning your memories."  
"Well, I guess I'll have to explain me turning, what, thirty-eight suddenly to Dawn and the others. God, that's gonna be weird. And you say none of my memories will be missing?"  
Wesley grinned. "No side-effects."  
Buffy sighed. "Lord, then, um... Well, just get it over with I suppose. That's why you came after all, right? Just hurry up so that my bread doesn't get burnt, yeah?"  
Smiling, Wesley said, "Very well, Miss Summers," rummaging in the briefcase he had brought and drawing a red chalk circle onto the kitchen floor. Being used to the drill, Buffy stepped inside when he seemed finished, and stood on the pentagram in the middle. "Just stand still and close your eyes." Wesley spread some herbs and stones around the circle, reciting something in an ancient language from a very ragged manuscript. It seemed to take forever. Finally, Buffy felt something very warm sweep through her body and opened her eyes to look at a more than mildly impressed Wesley. 

"What? Don't I look good?"  
He barely managed to speak. "Oh, no, Buffy ... Miss Summers ... you do." A little embarrassed, he took to cleaning his glasses. Buffy took out the last load of bread and turned off the oven, then walking to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror.  
"Good God," her heard her say. "I'm definitely myself. Hah. It's not even _that_ bad. But absolutely crazy! ... Poor Dawnie," she said as she came back. Collecting Wesley's empty mug, she asked, "Fancy another one?"  
"No, Miss Summers, thank you. I'll have to get going. The Council will be eager to hear about your decision and transformation."  
"I can imagine. Well, then. Thank you, I guess. I feel... awkward. But calmer. I hope I'll be able to cope with this."  
Wesley smiled. "Don't worry, Buffy. We've never needed this spell before, but it was designed entirely to make the Slayer's life easier. No bad surprises."  
"Thanks, then. Willow is going to be impressed." She smiled back. "Have a safe trip." Grinning, he gave her a nod and dissolved; apparently, he, too, had come to master teleportation. Buffy looked at the freshly-baked loaves. "Well, looks like I'll have to learn to behave like a thirty-year-old, too. Shit, this is crazy. I'd never give back my memories, though."

***

Months after Wesley's visit, Dawn, her friends, and herself still getting used to Buffy's transformation, she decided to pay Giles a visit. He had, after spending half a year in Los Angeles, too, decided to move back to Bath and help the Council educating the Potentials. Buffy had promised to visit but never gotten around to travelling. Now seemed the perfect time for it; also, she felt that telling Giles about her sudden aging over the phone would have been rude. She wondered if he'd heard about the rule at all.

***

She was submerged in packing her suitcase when Dawn came in.  
"'Bout time you do that."  
" _Dawn._ My flight is in _five_ hours." Dawn giggled.  
"That's not what I meant."  
Buffy shot her the piercing I'm-still-the-Slayer-you-know look.  
"I mean Giles." Her older sister sighed. "Dawn. Don't start this again."  
"But you know it's true. You know that you owe him a visit. And that he's been waiting for you to come over for years. And that you're friends now and that you're _supposed_ to miss each other. That's normal." Again, Buffy sighed, rummaging through her wardrobe.  
"And you know better than me that you have a special connection."  
"It's called the Slayer-Watcher bond, Dawn." Buffy's voice sounded muffled; she was half-absorbed by tons of clothing.  
"Buffy. You _know_ it's more that that. It's kinda obvious."  
The ex-Slayer mimicked her. "Dawn. You _know_ it's not." The younger sister grinned. "Like I said. 'Bout time. You know I'm right, too."

***

On the plane, Buffy couldn't help but feel nervous. Of course, Dawn had been right. Her changed feelings for Giles had actually been one of the reasons why she hadn't visited him since he had left for England. She fiddled in her seat; she didn't feel entirely comfortable with herself yet. Sure, her features had stayed the same, as had her body, mostly. But she felt very different; still the same person, of course, but more patient, more caring, and maybe wiser. And the aging process had left her with a very clear sense of priorities. Priorities that now, after all those years, suddenly included Giles, ranking very high. She knew it was bold to visit him like that. But he had to know about the change ... and he had to know about her feelings, too. She had to risk it. Why, now nearing forty, she did have the damn right to know what she wanted from life. She'd had years to figure out what he really meant to her, and, after Sunnydale, finally reaching the conclusion that she actually _loved_ him, actually needed him, had been a scary revelation, but then again, she had anticipated it years before. She hoped he wouldn't be too shocked by it. What if he didn't feel for her in that way at all? And then again ... Buffy thought of Dawn's ideas and Willow's awkward hints at the topic, and hell, even Spike's theories about her relationship with Giles. She smiled; 'I better not screw this up," she thought, fastening her seat belt as the plane was landing.

***

From Heathrow, she took the two-hour tourist's bus to Bath. She had settled for a cheap bed-and-breakfast; as opposed to her Hellmouth years, she didn't need much. Already in Sunnydale, and already during the three years since the destruction of the Hellmouth, she had changed a lot; skipping nearly two decades of her life had done the rest. Of course, she still possessed her typically Buffy-ish character traits, but overcoming an age gap of almost seventeen years between her former and current selves had shaped her, too. Exhausted from her jet lag, she slept through the whole night, but when she woke up, the nervousness returned instantly. Giles was the first thing on her mind and she was scared to ruining everything with her spontaneous and unannounced visit, of offending him by her decision and scaring him away by admitting her feelings. But it had to be: she had felt tempted to tell him right after Sunnydale's fall, and hadn't dared to; her jump the the age of thirty-eight urged her to do so, not because she suddenly thought that life was short, but because her sudden change to a grown woman had shown her, like a relief, what and who really mattered to her. She couldn't bottle it up anymore. She didn't remember exactly when she had fallen for him, but it had happened after his return from England; she suspected the moment they had hugged at the Magic Box to have been key, even if she hadn't been able to grasp what it was back then. 

***

After taking a shower and leaving a message for Dawn (who was probably still asleep), she went tingly all over while trying to choose a dress from her wardrobe. To seduce him, she didn't want; but she wanted to show him who she had become, that she had gotten past childishness and foolishness and become aware of the seriousness that creeps onto you in the course of your life, aware of the true value of things and people. After more than half an hour of indecisiveness, she chose a plain black blouse, a blue knee-length skirt, and plain brown boots with it. She put up her hair into a plain, unobtrusive bun and briefly smiled at her unfamiliar reflection in the bathroom mirror. Only hope could she that he wouldn't be too repulsed by the woman she had become.

She had chosen her accomodation wisely; it was less than a twenty-minute walk away from anything important, and, above all, exactly as far away from Giles' home. With the aid of a tourist map, she found her way rather quickly, only stopping for a small take-away coffee, and to admire a small fountain. Only a block away from Giles' flat, she suddenly started feeling anxious. No, she couldn't turn around, she just _wouldn't_ , but all the doubts she had managed to suppress or dismiss with a simple argument came creeping back to her and made for a stifling feeling in her chest. She folded the map and buried it in her handbag. There was no going back. She took a deep breath, hurried around the corner until her own finger on Giles' doorbell button stopped her. She felt her heart rate double, or so she thought.

"Yes?"  
God, how she had missed his voice. The Christmas and birthday phone calls hadn't been enough. His voice meant so many different things to her, but above all, it meant safety, it meant silent trust, and it meant unconditional love. She almost forgot to speak; hearing him again pulled her out of her thoughts.  
"Yes? Hello?"  
She swallowed and tried to sound cheerful.  
"Giles? It's ... me."  
It took him less than a second to recognize her, and that didn't give him time to think or even try to moderate his joy. She could practically hear him smile.  
"Buffy! Is it really you?"  
She smiled back through her words. "Yes, Giles, I thought I'd surprise you." The joyful patience in his voice was unmistakeable. "Come on right up, I've just made tea!"  
"That sounds great, I'll be up in a second, but ... just one thing before I come."  
He sounded almost worried. "What is that?"  
"Don't be shocked. I am myself, but ... another version of myself. I'll explain. Just promise me you won't faint."  
The few seconds she had to wait for his answer seemed like an eternity.  
"Certainly, Buffy, I promise. Second floor."

***

She took the stairs. A little out of breath, she knocked at the door that said "Rupert Giles. 11" in his clear and elegant handwriting. When he opened the door, both were petrified for a moment. She was taken aback by his appearance; he looked as elegant and as much himself as ever, only his hair had turned a lighter grey and the laughter-lines around his eyes increased. It suited him well. Giles, on the other hand, really had to collect all his strength to be able to speak, so surprised but intrigued was he by her looks. His smile was still as she remembered it to be, though. "Come in, dear." She beamed. Trying to calm his racing mind and pounding heart, he showed her to the couch and disappeared briefly to the kitchen for tea. "Milk, sugar?," he called. "Milk, thank you," she chimed from the living room. He couldn't convince his heart not to leap. 

He returned with a tray, serving both of them fresh tea and offering Buffy a tiny milk can. While they both stirred their cups, he said, smilingly, "Tell me, Buffy. Tell me the whole story." She returned the smile warily. "Well... It's a little confusing, but actually not that complicated." He nodded curiously, and she went on. "Wesley showed up at my door a few months ago. He told me about this ancient rule that they have at the Council, you probably know it. Faith and me have been offered and granted a new life. We were able to choose between losing all our powers and memories and having our lives rewritten, or keeping the memories and a few of our Slayer abilities but giving back the youthful strength and all, so basically skipping two decades in our lives. Faith opted for the new personal history version, and I, as you can see, for the other offer." She took a sip, and he nodded understandingly, but took off his glasses and started to clean them. Buffy felt the sudden urge to hug him at the familiar sight, but smiled at him instead. 

"I see," he said quietly. "I have been told about this rule, indeed, but I didn't think it would ever be enforced on anyone. To be honest, I had forgotten about it entirely. We haven't exactly experienced an abundance of cases in the past where this would have been applicable, obviously," he chuckled, and Buffy joined him. "It feels awkward, Giles. But oddly, I'm awfully okay with it. No more of the Slayerish edginess and restlessness. No apocalypses lurking around the corner. I can actually sleep with both of my eyes closed now," she grinned, and made both of them crack up for a moment. It felt wonderful, almost as if they were back at the training room again where Buffy had updated him about all the dreadful events he had missed.  
"God, Buffy, it sure is marvellous to see you." She smiled. "You too. It's really been too long." They both took a sip of tea.  
"It suits you well. Your new age, I mean. Still charming." He blushed for a split second, and Buffy felt a wave of warmth sweeping through her heart at noticing it. "Thank you. Can't say I'm really used to it yet, but I'm coping well. Everything seems so different now, not just my looks. I mean I know I've changed a lot during Sunnydale and also since then, but, um, this did even more for me. Sometimes I catch myself thinking how utterly exhausting and nerve-wrecking I must have been to you." He giggled. "How very sympathetic of you." He refilled their cups. "I know it isn't too seemly to ask this of a lady, but m-may I ask you h-how old ... what age you have jumped to?" She shot him a playful look of disapproval and smiled, "Thirty-eight."

She knew he was doing the math and closely observed his expression. He seemed to think about a dozen other things during the very same moment, too, and she could see the lovely pattern of wrinkles around his eyes flutter and change. When he discovered that she was observing him, he gave a shy smile. She wished she were able to tell whether it was due to his slight stuffiness and general tendencies to hide his personal emotions or to something new, something she had either not seen or he had not experienced before. Suddenly, he seemed to catch up with his thoughts and punish himself for having allowed himself to speculate. He looked as if angry at himself and asked her politely, "More tea, Buffy?" She nodded. Both stirring in their cups again, she decided she had to speak.

"Giles?" He looked up and smiled. "Hmm?"  
"There is something I must tell you." She could see him suddenly expect the worst and smiled at that. "Don't worry, it's nothing ... apocalyptical. Also, everyone's fine at home. It's something else. It's about ... me." He hid behind his cup, not sure what to expect. She blushed a little. "Actually ... it is about me and you." He swallowed and suddenly seemed awfully busy with the kettle. She set her cup down and the quiet clink the porcelain made against the tray made him flinch a little. "Please, Giles ... just listen. Don't say anything. I couldn't even confess this to my bedroom wall so I don't know how I will ever tell you ... but I have to." She ran her fingers through her hairdo, trying to swallow away her heart that was suddenly pounding in her throat. He kept his eyes on the tray, a multitude of thoughts and fears and hopes racing through his mind, his fingers desperate not to tremble. 

"I have fallen in love with you." He held his breath; her voice trembled. "I can't put my finger on when exactly that happened, but it happened. I had been meaning to tell you, but before the destruction of the Hellmouth, I hadn't really realized it yet myself. And then, afterwards, there were so many things to settle, and then you left, and I became insecure and doubtful again. I know that you know that there has always been a bond between us. And I don't mean the Slayer-Watcher bond. A bond of intimate friendship, of conspiratorial partnership, something very secret and strong and incomprehensible to everyone else. Travers said you had a father's love for me, and I believe that. We have been like an odd little two-man family, partners in crime even." She didn't know how to make her voice sound less shaky; her heartbeats which pulsed through her entire body made her unable to make it sound any more firm. Giles didn't dare to make a sound or move even a millimeter.

"I've been very egoistical. Actually, I've been horrible many, many times. I've hurt you deeply, and I know I was the only person at times that was close enough to you to be able to cause you that much pain. And I'm really very sorry. I was stupid. And you went away and came back and I died and everything just went crazy in Sunnydale and, um, somehow that's pushed us away from each other. But you have never given up on me, and believe me, even if I've behaved like an utter asshole sometimes, I have always believed in you, too. I have always needed you. And I've always loved you, and well, I guess, at one point I realized that it had become m-more than just that, that I'd fallen in love with somebody incredibly ... amazing, and brave, and strong, and smart, and-" She looked at him. "Anything can happen now, maybe you'll hate me from now on, maybe you just feel completely different, I don't know, Giles. But I know that I couldn't have kept it inside for even one more day. That's why I've come here. It's all up to you and we can just go back to where we've been if you want that. I've fallen in love with you."  
She thought she'd dissolve, so long seemed the moment in which he stayed completely motionless. Then he looked at her - not daring to smile, their gazes locking - and said, his entire life, his galloping heart at stake, "Are you completely sure about that?"  
She swallowed, but held his gaze. Her lips trembled. "Never been more sure about anything."

Those words broke all the dams, all the walls inside him, melted the armour around his heart, tore away all the shutters and barricades and long-kept partitions that had hidden secrets; there was a flutter of a smile before he leaned in and kissed her as if it were a matter of averting another apocalypse. He felt her smile as she responded to his kiss, wrapping her arms around him. The sheer amount of love exchanged made them dizzy; how they ended up in the adjoining bedroom, and on the sheets, escaped both their memories. They remembered each other's skin, each other's scent; they remembered both soft and passionate touches and kisses exploding as if it had been the last day of the world, and all the elements of the world suddenly falling into place, all knots resolving, all blurs clearing and hearts pounding in competition. 

Thus, when they lay in bed as if their bodies were one and the same, joined by golden warmth and an inexplicable magnetism, it was no surprise that when he asked her to be his wife, she answered with an immediate yes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it.  
> Comments or reviews etc. make my day :)


End file.
